As You Were
by sodi
Summary: Immediately after the last battle, Ron and Hermione go to the Burrow. There is a lot of cleaning up to do but they have to pick up where they left off.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of course. **

Rubble littered the corridors of Hogwarts as Ron Weasley walked slowly into the Great Hall. Since the victory he'd walked in and around the outside of the castle, its walls in ruins and elegance overshadowed by destruction. Some people had left, some had fled before capture, and others had stayed. He kicked a few pieces from the broken stone wall and dragged onward towards his family. He saw that Harry was no longer lingering around and that Hermione was being hugged tightly by his mother. He glanced around the large room and noticed that most families had already left. He winced as he looked, rather apprehensively, at the table where the dead lay. He looked up to see Hermione staring at him through Mrs. Weasley's grip, her expression hopeful, yet sad. He stared back stony faced as images of Fred's lifeless face floated through his mind.

Ron reached his father who was staring down at the floor, his jaw clenched and his eyes swimming with tears. It took Ron everything he had to keep himself from breaking down. There was a great weight settling in his chest with no intention to move and he realized, for the first time, how lucky he was to have such a big family. He had always complained at the lack of money and the old clothing he was forced to wear, but now, after everything the past year, those things seemed so small.

There was a soft shuffling of feet as somebody moved to stand next to him and Mr. Weasley. Ron looked up to see Hermione again, this time staring at her own hands, one of which was clutching her wand. Ron grabbed her free hand and pulled her closer.

"Do you think everyone's going to be alright?" she whispered as she looked at the fallen and their families. Ron was sure that Hermione included him but he had not the faintest idea if he would be alright. He didn't answer and gripped her hand tighter.

"Where do you suppose Harry is?" Hermione asked. Ron continued to stay silent and looked back over to his mother who was smothering a sunken-faced George with her hugs. George's eyes were unreadable as he stared blankly into nothingness. The heavy weight in Ron's chest began to sink lower and lower until it reached his stomach. He felt as if he was going to be sick.

There was a swift movement from across the Hall as three figures walked briskly towards the doors. Ron craned his neck and saw that the people trying desperately not to be noticed were the Malfoys. Nobody besides Ron was paying them much attention and he watched as Lucius and Narcissa led the way to outside while their son, throwing guilty, fleeting glances behind his shoulder, followed. Ron released Hermione's hand and, putting his hand on her back, led her out of the Great Hall and up the staircases.

The walk with Hermione to the seventh floor was short and uneventful. The staircases were still and the usual sounds of students running to class and Peeves teasing mercilessly were absent. The portrait hole was open and Ron and Hermione made their way into the Gryffindor common room. Harry was sitting in an oversized armchair, his back to them, gazing into the empty fireplace. If it wasn't for his black hair peeking over the top of the chair, Ron and Hermione wouldn't have noticed him.

"Harry?" Hermione called to him. Her voice was filled with uneasiness. Harry turned around to face them, his eyes sunken in from lack of sleep and glasses askew, but smiling regardless.

"Feels a little unreal, doesn't it?" he asked. He got up from the chair and circled the room. "I think I can sleep for at least a month."

"I think we all can. Don't you think so, Ron?" Hermione asked gently. Ron looked down at her and smiled sadly.

"Yeah, I think I could use a few years worth actually," he said. "You coming to the Burrow, Harry?"

"If your family will have me, yeah," Harry said sighing.

"Well, you know Mum, she loves you," Ron said smiling. Harry walked by them towards the portrait hole and clapped Ron on the back. He looked slightly more awake.

"We should get down then, I reckon. See if there's anything to help with, see Ginny and all that," Harry said absentmindedly. He caught Ron's eye. "And you know, anyone else," he added quickly.

"Yeah, we'll meet you down there," Ron said back. Harry stepped out of the portrait hole and, by the sounds of his footsteps, almost ran down the stairs.

"Be careful, Harry!" Hermione called to him. Her raised voice was deafening in the silent room.

"_Be careful?_" Ron asked. "Hermione, it's not like Voldemort's going to jump out from behind a suit of armor." Hermione rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"Yes, I know Ron. It's only out of habit; you don't have to laugh about it." She walked to the center of the room and sighed. "It's _really _over, isn't it?" She looked back at Ron who was looking out one of the circular room's windows. When he didn't answer, she made her way towards him. "Ron?" she whispered. "Is everything alright?" He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"I was so scared, Hermione," he said quietly. "I thought, maybe, one of us was going to die." He heard Hermione sniff into his shirt. "At times, I couldn't even see you and all I could think of was that, that—"

"Stop," Hermione said firmly. She had pulled herself away from him and looked into his face. Ron was careful to avoid her gaze. "You can't be thinking like that anymore. Stop." Her pleading made Ron look at her fully for the first time in what seemed like weeks. The war had put the majority of their lives on pause and Ron was beginning to appreciate the luxury of wasting away seconds to just look at her. Any time together was stolen from them and even though Harry was his best mate, he found himself wishing on numerous occasions that he and Hermione could have some privacy.

He leaned in and brushed her hair out of her face. Hermione toyed with the front of his shirt with her fingertips before moving closer to him. Ron was an inch away from kissing her before the portrait hole swung open again. They both jumped back at the sight of Harry who was panting as if he'd just run up and down seven flights of stairs.

"Your Mum says we're going to leave and get some rest. And then tomorrow, everything is going to be, well, sorted out." Harry looked upset as he said this, no doubt thinking of those dead. Ron gulped, his mind wandering back to Fred and everyone else. He nodded and Hermione mimicking him and they followed Harry downstairs, rather reluctantly.

When they reached the rest of his family a million questions came into Ron's head. Where would they bury Fred? Would there be a mass funeral? Who would rebuild the castle? And, this being a slightly disturbing thought, where did some of the escaped Death Eaters go? Ron walked his mother out of the castle; Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Fleur close behind. His father was somewhere that seemed like miles away from him, with Charlie, George, Bill, and Percy, surrounding Fred's body. Ron didn't want to know what they were talking about. He didn't even want to look anymore and hastily urged the rest of his family onward.

Past the Hogwarts gates, Ron gripped Hermione's hand. A sobbing Mrs. Weasley clutched Ginny's arm and Harry held onto her free one. Ron turned on the spot, his mind on the Burrow and the rustling field surrounding his home. Before the world swirled away in a blur, he caught sight of his mother, still crying, holding on to Ginny who was hand in hand with Harry, who, at the last moment, caught Fleur's arm ("'Arry, wait!") and Apparated.

Ron landed in the grass and stumbled over, toppling to the ground with Hermione. He quickly got to his feet and brushed off his knees and pulled a blade of grass from Hermione's hair before seeing Mrs. Weasley and the rest appear a few feet away from him. Together they walked the short distance to the Burrow's front door and hurried inside. Ron threw himself onto the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. He felt Hermione standing over him, running her hand along the top of his hair and then combing her fingers through it.

"I think we should all be getting to- to- bed," Mrs. Weasley stammered. Her eyes were momentarily dry as she looked upstairs. "I'll wait for Arthur and the others." Ginny was the first to speak to her.

"I'll wait with you, Mum," she said. "And Harry, we'll wait."

"No, no," Mrs. Weasley half sobbed. Her eyes were glistening again. "No, Ron will take Harry upstairs to his room and you take Hermione. I'll be fine." She choked on her last statement and went over to Harry and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. Harry blushed and stared at the floor.

"C'mon, Harry," Ginny whispered as she led him upstairs. "We'll come back down later." Harry followed Ginny to Ron's room and Fleur, noticing the tension, went into the kitchen muttering something about tea. Ron and Hermione walked up the stairs as well.

"Later on I'll check on my mum," Ron told her when they reached Ginny's door. "And then, if you're still awake, maybe we can, you know…" he stopped as he searched her face for answers. She nodded at every word. "…talk."

"Yes, okay," Hermione said quietly. She reached up and kissed Ron on the cheek and went into Ginny's room, shutting the door behind her. Ron felt immensely hot where she had kissed him and went further up the stairs into his room where Harry was already laying on a cot.

"Why are your ears so red?" Harry asked. He glanced up at Ron and went back to examining his newly repaired wand. Ron plopped down on his bed, feeling nauseated at the sight of so much Chudley Cannons orange. He laid down and faced Harry.

"I was just talking to Hermione about things," he said. Harry looked at him skeptically.

"Shouldn't you be used to this sort of thing by now?"

"You'd think I would be." Ron rolled over and closed his eyes, waiting for Harry to start snoring. He felt strangely alone without Hermione in the same room with him. Here was Harry, years away, free from Voldemort or any prophecy. But here he was, on his familiar bed with the death of Fred on his mind and a warm Hermione far away in another room.

Ron pictured Hermione in his head and felt his eyelids grow heavier as he tried to pry them back open. He was falling into a sleep he didn't want to wake up from. Tomorrow morning would be even harder and he didn't know how he would be able to handle it.

Ron dreamt that he was back in Grimmauld Place. The floor creaked as he paced up and down the dingy kitchen and Kreacher scurried under him, offering bowls of stew. The door opened and in walked Harry, his arms full of Galleons and instead of sporting his black round glasses, he had on Percy's horned rimmed spectacles.

"What in the name of—" Ron started to say before Harry shoved Galleons into his hands.

"Well, I've done it!" Harry exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Kreacher began tugging on Ron's sleeve and balancing a bowl of stew on his other hand.

"Done what?" Ron asked incredulously. "Robbed Gringotts, have you?"

"No! I've turned myself in," Harry said joyously. "And now we're rich!"

"Are you—are you mad?" Ron asked. He stared at Harry as if he had three heads. Harry put the rest of the money on the floor and started rummaging through the moleskin pouch he had received from Hagrid. "Harry, why would you do something like that?"

"Oh, well, you know, this is getting a bit old, isn't it?" Harry said absentmindedly. He had put his wand between his teeth and was talking around it as he continued to search for whatever he was looking for. "Go on a mission, face Voldemort, some ridiculous twist in the end, face Voldemort again." He pulled out the fake Horcrux locket and threw it over his shoulder.

"But you can't just turn yourself in for gold!"

"Aha!" Harry pulled out the Marauder's map and after tapping it with his wand, inspected it closely. He skipped over to where Ron was (who was still standing with his mouth hanging open, shocked) and pointed to a spot on the map. "See here?" He jabbed at it with his wand. "That's Voldemort and he's in the Great Hall right now," he said. "For breakfast, of course," he added as Ron turned to look at him confusedly. "And I'm meeting him there at noon."

"You're—you're meeting him there?" Ron stuttered. Kreacher began to dance around Ron's feet and shove the stew into his elbows as Ron rubbed his temples wearily. From another room came Hermione in her dressing gown. She stopped and stood before Ron and Harry and began tapping her foot.

"What on earth is going on here?" she asked. Her hair was far bushier than it had been in years and her voice far bossier. She was wearing her S.P.E.W. badge on the front of her gown and looked as stern as Professor McGonagall.

"Harry's gone and turned himself in!" Ron appealed to her. He waved his arms maniacally in Harry's direction as though he was not sure Hermione could comprehend what he was saying. Hermione's frown immediately changed into an ecstatic grin.

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Isn't wonderful Ron?"

"What?" asked Ron. He was completely baffled. "No!"

"We're rich now!" Hermione said. She clasped her hands together in delight and squealed into Harry's ear. By this point, Ron was thoroughly confused at their behavior.

"Have you two gone completely mental? What about the Horcruxes? What about—GET AWAY FROM ME KREACHER OR I'LL NAIL YOUR HEAD TO THE WALL!" he bellowed. Kreacher slouched reproachfully and crept out of sight. Ron ignored Hermione's mouth opening in protest and continued. "What about defeating—" he gulped. "Voldemort?"

"Ron," Harry said sighing. He took off Percy's glasses and began cleaning them with the sleeve of Hermione's dressing gown. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, you know that." Hermione nodded vigorously. Ron looked back and forth between them, wondering what on earth was going on. He turned around and walked off. It was pointless and infuriating to talk to them. This couldn't possibly be really going on.

"Oh and Ron?" said Hermione. He whipped around to find her staring at him with her eyebrows raised. He had a sudden urge to kiss her, regardless of how insane she was at the moment. "Remember to follow the spiders, will you?" Ron looked at her, annoyed. This was getting ridiculous. He turned around again and proceeded to walk towards the front door.

"Ron?" said Hermione. Ron ignored her and put his hand on the handle. "Ron?"

He turned it and opened the door.

"_Ron!"_

Ron felt hands on his chest shaking him awake. His eyes snapped open to find Hermione leaning over him, her long hair surrounding her face as she hovered and resembling a lion's mane. He blinked once before realizing she was real. "Hermione, what are you doing?" He rubbed his eyes, thankful that the ridiculous dream he had was over. "And where's Harry?" he asked after looking around.

"He went downstairs with Ginny to check on your mum," said Hermione. She sat on the edge of his bed and Ron scooted over to make room. "No, your dad isn't back yet," she said abruptly as she saw him trying to get up. He laid back down and closed his eyes.

"I had the weirdest dream," he said.

"Oh? What happened?" asked Hermione. She began to move closer to him as he made more room.

"Well, Harry turned himself in to the Ministry for gold and then you two went on about how you'd be rich," he said. Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "And Kreacher kept trying to hand me bowls of soup." Hermione smiled serenely and then frowned.

"You did take it, didn't you? The soup, I mean." Ron looked at her flabbergasted.

"_That's _what you're worried about? Sometimes I have to question what goes on in that head of yours," he said. He leaned further into his pillow and closed his eyes again. He felt the bed shift and heard the old springs creak as Hermione lay down beside him. "It was stupid anyway," he mumbled. He was beginning to feel tired again and opened his eyes in an attempt to stay awake and talk to Hermione. She had turned around, though, and closed her eyes herself. Ron stared at her for a moment before turning to face her and putting his arm around her. It wasn't like the stolen moments before the final battle where he would clumsily comfort her. No, this was much different. He brought himself closer to her and brought his hand down to her waist. He placed his head on her chest and closed his eyes for the last time that night. He could feel her breathing onto his hair and her heartbeat against his ear. Before falling asleep, he felt her arm wrap around to hold onto his back and her legs intertwine with his own.

**A/N: So, I've decided to write something Ron/Hermione. It's going to start off slow and I hope it turns out halfway decent. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning was a rather gloomy one. Mr. Weasley had sent word that Fred's body was remaining at Hogwarts until the afternoon, in which it would be buried along with the rest of the fallen. Ron didn't wake Hermione when he went downstairs but instead left her in his bed buried under the covers they had pulled over themselves in the middle of the night. Ron was surprised that he managed to sleep the rest of the day and into night until morning. Of course, he _had _woken up countless times. Twice, he was startled to feel Hermione breathing next him, her body pressed up against his and her breath hot against his neck. By the third time he was awaken by nightmares, she had turned around with her back facing him and he had to do everything he could from flipping her body over and holding her again.

Fleur had happily taken over as cook as Mrs. Weasley spent half of her time worrying and the other half being consoled by anyone near her. She had gotten on well with Fleur since Bill's attack but Ron could tell that the relationship between the two women was even better as Fleur offered his mother tea.

"Ron, I 'ave made eggs and toast. Sit down at ze table," she said to him. Her silvery hair whipped about her as she pulled out the nearest chair and waved her wand, bringing a flying plate to settle on the table in front of him.

"Thanks," mumbled Ron. He stabbed his fork into the eggs and thought of the upcoming funeral. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Hermione walk up behind him.

"Morning," she said gloomily as she stifled a yawn. Her cheeks were red as she stared down at the table and sat down. Her hair was tied back and her eyes tired but Ron continued to stare at her all the same. She smiled nervously at him as she caught his eye and took a plate of eggs Fleur handed to her. They both looked up at the sound of a door opening and closing to see Harry and Ginny.

"Luna's home," said Harry as he wiped sweat off his brow. "House is still demolished but they're managing."

"Camping outside," Ginny piped up. "Sounds dreadful, really. Mr. Lovegood couldn't look Harry in the eye either."

Ron gave Harry a knowing look. Of course Mr. Lovegood couldn't look at him. And, he thought as he glanced at Hermione, living in a tent wasn't too bad. If it wasn't for the smell and lack of decent food, he'd be happy to share a tent with her again. Harry sat down next to him and took another plate of eggs from Fleur.

"Sorry, I didn't make it back in last night," he said. "I came and sat with your mum and Ginny." Ron nodded. Truthfully, it was quite alright with him that Harry left.

"I know, Hermione told me," said Ron. He turned to see Hermione talking with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. Fleur had started cleaning dirty plates and talking to herself in quiet, rapid French. Ron ignored Harry's snicker and pushed the last bits of egg around on his plate.

"Oh, did she?" asked Harry. "And she just went back to bed then?" Ron rolled his eyes as he looked at him. Harry was biting his lip now and holding back laughter.

"Oh, shut up Harry," said Ron. He turned back to his almost empty plate and ignored Harry who was still staring at him and looking back at Hermione. Ron looked up at him once, rolled his eyes pointedly again, and then stealthily glanced at Hermione as well. She was still talking to Mrs. Weasley. His change in focus didn't go unnoticed by Harry, who had made a production of nodding and smiling.

"Look, nothing happened, okay?" Ron said annoyed. He kicked Harry under the table and got up from his chair, pushing it in with a force that caused his and Harry's plates to clatter. He trudged back up the stairs to his small room, the steps creaking under every step. He could hear them creaking and shifting as he walked farther up and knew that someone was either going to their own room or following him. He didn't look back but continued walking until reaching his room on the highest landing just before the attic. He slammed the door behind him and threw himself onto his bed, hiding his face in his pillow. It smelled like Hermione's hair. His bed was also made, he noticed. Last night he had been wishing his bed was bigger because for two people it was very uncomfortable. Yet, truthfully, he had never considered or thought for one minute that he would be sharing it.

There was a gentle knock at his door and he pushed his head farther down into his pillow and muffled his breathing. Maybe if he waited long enough he would fall into a state of unconsciousness and Fred's death wouldn't matter anymore. Well, neither would Hermione, he thought again.

He picked his head up to see Hermione closing the door behind her. For a second they stared at each other. She took a step forward and continued to hold his gaze. He picked himself up into a sitting position and let his legs hang over the edge and stared right back, trying to read her expression. His eyes scanned her face and he licked his lips nervously.

In one swift movement Hermione walked the short distance from the door to Ron's bed and threw herself at him. He opened his arms to catch her just in time as she pressed her lips to his. Ron held onto her, shocked, as she clung to his neck and kissed him deeper. He parted his lips farther and kissed her back. He had no idea what brought on this sudden change in behavior. They hadn't talked much after the war, granted it had only been a day, but he never imagined being in this situation until much later, perhaps maybe a few days.

Ron began to notice that Hermione was trying to push him down as she continued to kiss him. Ron put his hands under her arms and pulled her onto the bed with him. He moved so he was no longer sitting on the edge but on the length as he would normally do if he were sleeping. Hermione moved on top of him and he fell back, his head hitting the pillow. She continued to kiss him and Ron opened his mouth and let her slip her tongue in. He moaned into her as she rubbed her hands down his chest and lightly grazed the fabric of his thin t-shirt with her fingertips.

By now Ron had gotten over his initial state of shock and was thoroughly enjoying the feel of Hermione on top of him and her tongue moving against his. He tore himself apart from her lips, brought his head up, and began kissing her neck, tentatively at first, but as she writhed above him he kissed her harder. He kissed her along her jaw and back down her neck and Hermione responded with noncommittal noises and small gasps. His hands slid down to her hips and pulled her closer to him, only slightly embarrassed that there was now an evident hardness between them. He was hoping that her heavy breathing was a sign that she didn't notice but as she moved her body lower and started pressing harder against him, he guessed otherwise.

Ron found his way back to her mouth and kissed her again. He managed to do this for only a second before she started to kiss his neck and sneak her hands under his shirt. Ron closed his eyes and let her touch him, her hands moving back up to his chest and around his back. He wanted to rip her shirt off. He sat up, Hermione still kissing him while doing so, and slid her down until she was sitting on top of him. He gripped her tighter and kissed her once on her cheek. She broke contact with his neck and looked him.

It had occurred to Ron, not for the first time but now it seemed like it was an even greater realization, that everything about Hermione was real. The way she looked at him, whether it was annoyed with his lack of tact or tender at something surprisingly sweet that he said. The way her bossy voice rang throughout his head and how she refused to do his homework but ended up doing it for him anyway. Her hair was always in the way and she panicked at the smallest things. Her temper wasn't quick like his, but it was there all the same and Ron had been on the receiving end of her anger many times.

Ron looked down at Hermione's chest. Her panting had ceased and gradually turned into slow heaves for air. Ron looked back up at her and slid his right hand up and down her side. His other brushed some of her hair out of her face. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he was sorry for being jealous. That he'd fancied her for a long time and that he always felt nervous and self-conscious whenever she was in the same room. But he didn't.

Hermione played with the hair at the nape of his neck and inched her face closer to his. Ron leaned in and kissed her lips again. This Hermione, although she might have seemed different to anyone else, was the same Hermione he had always known. They had been friends, yes, but Ron had always wanted her more than anyone else did. He always imagined what it was like to snog her or hold her or, he shifted uncomfortably under her, sleep with her. Never had he thought, well save for maybe the first three years of knowing her, that they would only be friends. He knew that it could have gone two ways with Hermione. Either one day she would see him differently (which he knew she did) and they would act on it, or, this haunted Ron more than anything, she would never return his feelings and he would have to watch her be with someone else. Sometimes he thought that he rightly deserved it. He had let Hermione down on more than one occasion and hated himself for it, so he could imagine what her feelings could be like.

But now, he was definitely sure that she was not going to be with anyone else. He had her and he loved her and he was going to try his hardest to not mess up. He continued to kiss her and run his hands along the sides of her waist. Hermione had her hands back under his shirt and moved them across his stomach before gripping his lower back. He began to kiss her harder again and grabbed the ends of her shirt. He considered pulling her blouse up and over her head as he so desperately wanted to. As she continued to kiss him, though, he thought better of it and rested his hands back on her waist and kissed her again slowly, moving his tongue into her mouth and back out again.

There was a sudden loud rapping on his door and they broke apart instantly. Hermione jumped so quickly from his lap that she stumbled off the bed and hit the floor. Ron remained sitting on the bed, his eyes wide and fixed on the door. It opened and a face of radiant beauty appeared.

"Eet is almost time to go to 'Ogwarts. Zey would like you down Ron," said Fleur. Her eyes rested on Hermione sitting awkwardly on the floor, looking flushed. "I told zem that you must be in Ginny's room. I will stick to zat."

Fleur left the room in a hurry and closed the door behind her. Ron and Hermione had not spoken since breakfast and as Ron peered over the edge of the bed to find her still on the floor, he had to bite his lip from laughing. Hermione was flustered. Her hair was slightly messed from falling and her cheeks still pink with embarrassment from being found by Fleur. She glared up at Ron with a look that dared him to laugh. He did. He snorted at first before bursting with laughter at the sight of her. He got up from the bed and helped her up. She smiled as he did so and brushed invisible dirt off of herself, clearly trying to busy her hands. Ron tugged the bottom of his shirt down and tried to distract from his crotch. Hermione was polite enough to not look down.

"Hey," Ron said sheepishly. He reached across the short space between them and touched her fingers lightly with his.

"Ron," Hermione answered quietly. Ron glanced at his floor and around his room. Everything looked disheveled and dusty from lack of use. Some things even looked as if they were rifled through. Had Death Eaters gone through his things? Either way, he should have cleaned up a bit before having Hermione up. But then again, he thought, she had invited herself up both times; the time they had slept in bed and this time where they, well…

"We should go downstairs," he said miserably. Ron didn't want to for two reasons, the first standing in front of him wearing the after effects of being kissed and slightly groped. The other was obvious. He didn't want to face the reality of Fred's death. Hermione's kiss had once again been a distraction from the real world. That's another thing about her: she was real and surreal at the same time. He could count on her to make him forget anything that was going on and also bring him back down to earth.

"Alright, then," said Hermione. Her voice brought him back from his thoughts. Ron gave his bed one last longing look before grabbing her hand and leading the way out the door.

Everyone was already near the kitchen door that led to the back garden before Ron and Hermione arrived. They hurried to join Harry and walked out into the harsh sunlight behind everyone else. Farther along garden they Apparated, Ron gripping Hermione's hand tightly again.

They appeared out of thin air in Hogsmeade. The shops were still desolate and the ground littered with trash and wanted posters but the heavy gloom and feel of foreboding seemed to be gone. As they walked towards Hogwarts, Ron remembered the innocent trips he, Harry and Hermione had taken to these very roads. It seemed like ages ago. He'd give anything to enjoy a Butterbeer with them again without having to think of a war or Fred.

They walked towards the northwest part of the great castle, past the entrance where their permission slips were inspected and through a corridor Ron had walked with Hermione many times. He remembered how he would purposely walk close to her, not too close, but near enough to brush her arm or shoulder, just enough for contact. He had let go of Hermione's hand just after the Apparition and was considering taking it back into his own again before he saw the crowd of people in the Great Hall.

There was an array of people standing around the tables. Some Ministry officials and employees were there, along with Kingsley, Aberforth, and others. Students both during and outside the battle were there with their families and talking amongst themselves. Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley went to stand in a corner of the Hall, and Ron couldn't help but notice that they were being stared at. He was used to people gawking at Harry, but he couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on him as well. If it wasn't such a somber moment he would have swelled with pride.

"Molly, you're here!" exclaimed an exasperated voice. Mr. Weasley came sprinting from across the Hall and took Mrs. Weasley into his arms and patted her on the back. His glasses were askew and his eyes worrisome. From behind him, walked up Percy, Bill, Charlie, and George, all puffy eyed from lack of sleep. Bill joined Fleur and took her hands in his, mumbling in her ear as she nodded. Ron caught snippets of his conversation, hearing "funeral" and "Dumbledore." Mr. Weasley, catching on that everyone was looking at him expectantly, cleared his throat.

"Ah, well," he began. "I'm sure you all remember Dumbledore's funeral. This is going to be similar considering the, um, number of bodies." Ron glanced at George. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the door. Ron felt his stomach tighten. "This afternoon, everyone will be laid to rest," Mr. Weasley continued. "It was agreed that Hogwarts would be the final resting spot for those who fought for it and the rest of the wizarding world. After everyone arrives we should be getting started." As he finished, Mr. Weasley looked around at his family for approval. Mrs. Weasley nodded and blew her nose into a handkerchief Percy gave her and the rest nodded as well. George moved to stand next to Ron and looked at Mr. Weasley.

"That's good then," he said quietly. Everyone turned to him, startled to hear him speak. Ron gave him what he hoped was an encouraging sort of smile but looked back down as soon as he saw the pain etched across his face.

"What's been going on since yesterday?" Harry asked Charlie. Ron picked up his head to listen.

"Everyone's been rushing to prepare for the funeral," Charlie said while sighing. "We're all really tired but we didn't want to wait any longer. " Ron opened his mouth to say that he would have stayed but Charlie caught him. "No, no, it's good you all went home to take care of Mum. We had students running around, trying to help. More trouble, actually. We sent Neville Longbottom home immediately; he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks."

Ron and Harry continued talking to Charlie and Percy for a good amount of time. George was talking to Hermione and Ginny while Bill was again with Mr. Weasley, Fleur at his side. Ron tried to listen to everything Charlie was saying but found it incredibly difficult as his thoughts kept drifting back to Hermione. It was a terribly wonderful escape from the current situation. Whenever Charlie mentioned someone who had died, Ron chose not to listen and instead thought of his warm bed and having Hermione in it. When Harry asked Charlie about the mass funeral, Ron simply turned the other way and remembered how Hermione sat on his lap and pressed against him. He shook his head in an effort to get those thoughts out. Maybe, after this was all done, they could pick up where they left off.

For hours they all talked. Ron was running out of things to say and had Hermione by the hand again while sitting on one of the destroyed tables. Many more people had arrived and now the Great Hall was flooded with both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Families, Ron presumed, had occupied most of the space and were heading outside to the grounds. Ron picked himself up off the table and followed Bill's lead out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds. He was not surprised to find so many golden chairs in rows near the lake but was taken aback at the number of bodies lying on the long table in front of them. They were draped in cloth, hidden under thick fabric, and Ron found it unsettling that he couldn't make out Fred. He was just another body. George had, though, and was focused on the shape on the far right of the table. Perhaps he had seen him beforehand. Ron stood rooted to the spot and allowed his family to walk past him. Hermione dragged him to the front row but Ron shook his head and led her to the second. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took up chairs in the front themselves, along with George and Percy and others whose family members had died.

Andromeda was there, holding a crying baby and sobbing softly to herself. Harry had walked up and taken the seat on the other side of Hermione, leaving Ginny with Mrs. Weasley. Bill, Fleur, and Charlie took the seats next to him and Ron saw Neville walking with his grandmother and sit in the back.

Ron bowed his head. He heard the familiar voice of the small tufty-haired wizard that spoke both at Dumbledore's funeral and Bill's wedding. Ron tried to block everything out again. He didn't want to hear any of it. He tried to focus on the girl sitting next to him and what they had done just hours before, but the girl in question had started to sniffle, bringing him back. He looked up to see Hermione crying, tears running down her cheeks and falling on her shirt. Ron wanted to console her but all he could manage was a clumsy pat on the leg before he broke down himself.

Ron put his head in his hands and tried his best to sob silently. He couldn't believe Fred was gone. He couldn't believe Lupin and Tonks were gone. He hiccupped before letting more tears fall and felt a hand lightly graze the top of his head. He leaned into Hermione's embrace, his face still hidden in his hands. He sobbed into her shirt, feeling stupid, as she brushed his hair with her fingertips and held him close. He was being pathetic, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He kept his face covered as he heard what he knew were flames erupting around the bodies, soon to be tombs to enclose the fallen. He glanced ahead of him briefly, and saw the remnants of smoke and an assortment of tombs of different colors lined perfectly on the table. He raised himself up a bit more but continued to lean into Hermione's arms. He dropped his head again and waited for the last moments of the service to cease. He felt her lean down and kiss the top of his head once, twice, and then continue to gently run her fingers through his hair.

**A/N: Okay, I hope it's alright. **


	3. Chapter 3

Fred's funeral seemed to allow closure for some at the Burrow. The first few evenings were downright dreadful and eerily quiet. The days seemed to drag on so slowly that Ron was sure he had spent years in his room before anyone had spoken or sat normally at the table together. Mrs. Weasley was getting along much better now that Mr. Weasley was home and spent the majority of her time cleaning rooms that had been ransacked by Death Eaters. Bill and Fleur had gone back to Shell Cottage much to the disappointment of Mrs. Weasley who had gotten used to cooking alongside someone and pestering Bill about his hair.

Ron was sitting in his room, long legs dangling over the edge of the bed, watching Harry pack what little he had into an old rucksack. Harry had decided to go back to Privet Drive to get anything he might need and then to 12 Grimmauld Place, where he would stay until he decided what to do.

"Mum is going to have a fit once you leave," said Ron. Harry grinned as he picked up a package of homemade sweets Mrs. Weasley had made him that morning. Ron knew that Harry sincerely liked his family but he also knew that Harry liked to be alone. He was used to Harry's need for solidarity by now and that sometimes he liked to be alone with his thoughts. But as he thought of his sister, he wondered what Harry's departure would do to her. "I reckon Ginny will be upset too." Ron glanced down at Harry warily, waiting for his reaction.

"She knows I've got to get my stuff straight," Harry said quietly. "I won't be too long. I'll come back before summer is over and by then she'll be getting ready for Hogwarts." Ron shrugged, trying to look indifferent. He was concerned for his sister's feelings but also relieved that he wouldn't have to see she and Harry snogging all over the place. Harry got up from the floor and left the room, leaving Ron alone.

Ron was a bit envious of Harry. He could leave whenever he wanted and have somewhere to go. It was stupid, he knew, to be jealous of someone who had never had a proper home. But as Harry talked about going back to Grimmauld Place, Ron wanted a place of his own too. He picked up the letter sitting by his bedside and read it for the fourth time:

_Mr. Ronald Weasley, _

_In light of recent events, the Ministry had decided to offer not only its deepest and sincerest thanks for the restoration of our world but an opportunity for future employment. The Ministry is well aware of your assistance to Mr. Harry Potter, in which you acted most selflessly and valiantly to help bring upon the downfall of the darkest wizard of our time. Your strength and abilities were proven most successfully and your endeavors are of those most highly valued here at the Ministry. There will be no need for N.E.W.T. results or an age requirement, etc. You are welcome to continue your education if you please and this offer will still stand. If you wish to seek employment and are interested in this opportunity, please send word no later than July 30__th__. _

_Sincerely,_

_Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt _

Ron smiled at the letter and straightened out a corner crumpled from wear. The prospect of not having to take any N.E.W.T.s gave him an overwhelmingly happy feeling. When he realized that Harry and Hermione had received similar letters, his happy feeling swelled like a balloon that dared to burst. He walked over to his small window and looked outside. The sun was shining brightly as if it were personally inviting him to enjoy a game of Quidditch beneath its rays. He considered asking Harry if there was enough time for a quick game when he glanced down at another letter sitting on the window sill. He rolled his eyes at it and went back to staring out of the window, remembering what it said:

_Mr. Ronald Weasley,_

_I am aware that you, along with several others, did not complete your studies here at Hogwarts due to the war and fight against Lord Voldemort. You are welcome to return to finish your seventh year of magical education and take your N.E.W.T.s. There are other matters in which I have to attend to so please reply with your decision before July 31__st__. _

_Well wishes,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

The letter was entirely too short, Ron thought. He could hear McGonagall's voice as he read it, stern and to the point. It seemed like she wanted him to make a decision at once and return to the school without a second thought. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he left his post near the window and began pacing his room. The choice was obvious, was it not? Another year of schooling was unnecessary, really. And a job without qualifications measured by test scores was an added bonus.

Ron smiled to himself. A job and money sounded like glorious things to pursue right now. His best mate would work alongside him, no doubt, and Hermione, well he would have her right next to him, too. And maybe, he thought dreamily, he'd be able to get a place of his own with the money he would be making.

He felt a surge of emotion as he slammed the door behind him and bounded down the stairs. He skidded into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny were making quick sandwiches for an after dinner snack. Ginny carried a plate into the sitting room, passing Ron on the way.

"Ron, do you want –" she began to ask, but Ron pushed the plate away from him and continued to the kitchen, sending Ginny's sandwiches toppling to the ground.

"Mum," he said breathlessly. He looked between Mrs. Weasley and Hermione wildly, smiling as he did so. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts." He raised his eyebrows as he waited for their reaction, his chest heaving.

"Well, Ron, that's—that's," Mrs. Weasley sputtered. She seemed to be lost for words.

"Ambitious," said George entering from the sitting room. "Another Hogwarts drop-out." He smiled sadly at Ron who, surprisingly, beamed back.

"But it's for a good reason!" he exclaimed, still smiling. "It's a _job! _What's another year of school going to do but land me somewhere I could've already been for a year? Face it, Mum, going back to school is just going to be getting in the way of me being an Auror."

Mrs. Weasley stared at him, gaping. She wiped her forehead, getting bits of bread on her brow, and looked at Hermione for help. Hermione gave her a crestfallen look and glanced downward. Ron didn't notice the two witches' exchange looks of disappointment and hastily went back to defending his decision.

"Don't you see? I can start training at the Ministry and making money and get out of here." As soon as he said it he knew he had said too much. Mrs. Weasley's eyes narrowed and her cheeks grew red. Ron took a step back as if she was going to go at him like a Hungarian Horntail. Hermione just stared at him, her brow slightly furrowed like she was trying to read his thoughts. George and Ginny hung back near the sitting room, their eyes darting from Mrs. Weasley to Ron.

"You already want to _leave_?" asked Mrs. Weasley through her teeth. "You've just gotten home from being gone for months! And now you want to run off to your next adventure hoping you can make some gold along the way?"

"Mum," Ron interjected. "I didn't mean—"

"We don't know if there are still Death Eaters out there waiting for someone to come along and find them! You're too young, Ron. You need to go back to school and _after that_ you can start thinking about work and leaving." The last word came out as a sob. Mrs. Weasley stomped out of the kitchen and out of the backdoor leading to the garden, nearly knocking down Harry who was coming through.

"What's going on?" he asked. The kitchen was eerily quiet except for the knife Mrs. Weasley had bewitched to cut the sandwiches slicing against the cutting board. Ginny and George were staring at Ron who was too flabbergasted to speak. Harry walked around the table and tried to lock eyes with Hermione, which was especially difficult because the sandwiches were now stacking themselves into a high pile in front of her.

"Ron isn't going back to school," she said quietly. She raised her wand and flicked it quickly to stop the knives and sandwiches. Harry didn't look surprised.

"She didn't take it well, huh?" he asked Ron.

"Yeah, you could say that," said Ron quietly. He looked behind him to see Ginny and George snickering. "You're not going back, are you Harry? You're going to take the job, right?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry. He glanced at Ginny. She had taken to looking at her feet. "I mean, Hogwarts is great but, I want to be an Auror and now I can." Ron looked relieved until he saw Hermione looking up at the both of them through heavy eyelids.

"You're going to come with us, right Hermione?" asked Ron tentatively. She gave him a small but believable smile.

"Of course."

Ron beamed. He grabbed a plate and piled some sandwiches on it before heading back up the stairs, dragging Hermione by the hand with him.

Ron kicked aside dirty clothes and discarded scrolls of parchment as he balanced a plate of sandwiches and entered his room. He moved Harry's camper and smoothed out the orange Chudley Cannons blankets on his bed. Hermione began picking up his old textbooks and arranging them on a bare shelf on the opposite wall.

"We're not cleaning, Hermione. I'm just making room," said Ron. He placed the plate onto the bed and walked over to her. She continued to pick up his books and dusting them off with her hand.

"Well you don't expect me to just leave these on the floor! You'll need to save them," she said huffily. She continued to put them away, slamming them on the shelf with more force than Ron would have liked. "You never know when you're going to need them when you're off saving the world," she added grumpily. Ron could hear the annoyance in her voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He grabbed her wrist lightly and tugged her around to face him. She had quite a bit of dust on her clothes and looked a little peeved. As soon as her eyes met his concerned ones, her features softened.

"Oh nothing," she sighed. She moved with him over to the bed and took a sandwich.

"Yuck," said Ron after taking a bite of his own. "I hate corned beef." Hermione laughed and gave him hers.

"Here," said Hermione, shoving the sandwich in his mouth. "Bacon sandwich." Ron choked a little on it but ended up eating four more. He and Hermione ate in silence except for the occasional sounds of chewing. Three times, Ron counted, their hands brushed against each other. He was sure that by now, after kissing her and holding her, that he would be able to touch her without burning red.

"I need to talk to you about something," said Hermione, breaking the silence. She moved the plate from the bed onto the floor and sat cross-legged on the bed.

"Is this going to involve mostly talking or…?" asked Ron playfully. Hermione glared at him before starting to talk again.

"I think that after Harry leaves I need to go too," she said quickly. Ron looked at her dumbly, trying to figure out why Hermione would just up and leave. Sensing Ron's confusion, Hermione spoke again. "I have to find my parents. I have to modify their memories again and send them back home. You understand, don't you?"

Of course he understood, but how had he forgotten? Hermione's parents were in Australia, completely unaware that they had a witch for daughter. They had no idea that she spent the last year hunting Horcruxes throughout Britain or faced the darkest wizard and his supporters. They would never understand what is what like to hear her scream in pain in Malfoy Manor or to see her work so hard to keep fighting. No, her parents had no idea who Hermione was at this moment.

It was then that Ron had a brilliant idea.

"I could go with you," he said eagerly. He expected Hermione to hug him for being so understanding and considerate. Instead, she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I knew you were going to say that," she said. Ron looked at her questionably. "I think it would be better if you stayed here. It'll be a nasty shock to my parents at first and I think you being there would only—"

"Get in the way, yeah," said Ron, cutting her off.

"—distract me," finished Hermione snappishly. "I wouldn't be able to focus with you around me. I would be too busy wanting you to even think about what I'll tell my parents. I mean, they're going to be furious that I did this to them! Besides, your mother would snap your wand in half before you step foot out of your house." Hermione said this all in one breath. Ron was gaping at her. She had actually thought this through.

"It would only be for a few days, Ron," said Hermione quietly.

"Did you say that you'd be '_wanting'_ me?" asked Ron. His eyes were shining with mirth. He grinned at Hermione who looked defeated. "I understand though," he added quickly so that she knew that he heard all of it. "You should go, I mean, and it's okay."

"I'm glad you understand," said Hermione, relieved.

"You did say that though," said Ron matter-of-factly. "I know you said it so there's no denying it."

"Ron," said Hermione, "How do you think I feel about you?" It was a rhetorical question, Ron knew, but he answered it anyway as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Dunno," he mumbled against her mouth. He kissed her softly and slowly. He was getting used to kissing her by now and found it a degree less embarrassing. His thoughts drifted elsewhere, to place where he was glad Hermione couldn't see. He was lucky, he reminded himself, that as smart as Hermione was she never pursued Legilimency.

"HARRY'S LEAVING YOU GIT!" roared Ginny from downstairs. Startled, Ron pulled away from Hermione and rather reluctantly, they headed downstairs.

"Come to see me off?" asked Harry, grinning. He clapped Ron on the back before giving him a warm hug. "I'm a little nervous about going to Gringotts and getting my money. You think I'll be arrested?"

"Probably," laughed Ron. He hadn't even thought about that. Hopefully, they'd be pardoned or something. Taking into consideration that he had no gold of his own to put into a vault, his spirits dropped slightly.

"Kingsley wanted us to get back to him before September so I'll get on that after everything else," continued Harry. "I'm sure the Dursleys will be disappointed to see that I didn't die."

"They should be grateful that you risked your neck to save them, those Muggle relatives of yours," said Mrs. Weasley angrily as she hugged Harry. "Utter rubbish, the way they treat you."

"Mum, those Muggles are a rotten lot," said Ron, getting an approving look from Harry. It was common knowledge that Harry's aunt and uncle were the worst Muggles to be around and completely intolerant of anyone deemed out of the ordinary. Harry could probably jump in front of a moving bus to save them and they would still treat him like dirt. Right after he spoke Mrs. Weasley turned to look at him so quickly that she could have cricked her neck.

"Don't you go on about people you know little about, Ron," she snapped. "For all you know, they might have turned over a new leaf." Ron was flabbergasted. Mrs. Weasley was obviously very upset for her to change her mind as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Harry, you must write," pleaded Hermione as she gave him a tight hug. "But we'll send you a letter first, of course, seeing as how—" Harry looked down sadly at her words "—Hedwig." There was an awkward silence and Ron, true to character, felt the need to fill it.

"Hermione's leaving too," said Ron abruptly. Hermione shot him a look that could have rivaled Mrs. Weasley's.

"To bring your parents home?" asked Harry. Ron could have kicked himself.

"Yes," said Hermione. "I was going to say something tonight but yes, I think I'm going to leave in the morning."

"What?" asked Ron. "_Tomorrow _morning? When you said you'd be leaving after Harry I thought you meant a few days later or something."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Ginny cut in.

"Let's walk Harry outside," she said. "It's beginning to get dark. He's Apparating just on the hill."

They trooped outside until they were standing among the fields of rolling grass, the fair wind tousling their hair and the last of the glow from the sunset creeping behind the hills. Mr. Weasley had found his way out of the shed where Ron was well aware that his father kept many of his Muggle contraptions. Harry hugged each of them again, lingering with Ginny and kissing her (Ron looked down pointedly). And then, he was gone.

"I think that I should talk to your dad too," said Hermione as she and Ron walked back inside the house. In the dim moonlight Ron could only make out Hermione's face. She looked stuck on an idea.

"Why?" asked Ron gruffly. He wasn't in the mood to talk about her departure.

"Because I can't just Apparate there," she said as it was the most obvious thing in the world. Since when had Apparition not been enough? "It's entirely too far. I don't want to risk anything and I suppose your dad can help me contact some wizard officials over in Australia."

Ron silently agreed. He wouldn't want Hermione to Apparate either for fear of her landing in the middle of an ocean. Still, he didn't want to speak to her. She could have mentioned that she would be leaving in the morning when they were alone.

Everyone gathered in the sitting room as there were a few hours before bed. Hermione sat down next to Ginny but Ron stomped up the stairs and into his room, deliberately ignoring Hermione and her reasons for going to Australia. Hermione bade him goodnight and Ron, rather grumpily, grunted goodnight to her. Closing his door, he lay down on his bed, feeling cold and lonely, and drifted to sleep.

Ron awoke, startled that he should be up only after a few hours of sleep. He glanced at his watch, squinting in the dark, and read that it was two a.m. He looked up to see who or what had disturbed him. All he could see was a female a silhouette, though, with a mane of bushy hair ending halfway down her back.

"I need to talk to you," said Hermione. Her words were barely a whisper and Ron picked his head off of the pillow to hear her better. "I don't want you to be upset with me. I need to go, Ron. I must."

"You didn't have to keep me thinking that I had at least another day with you rather than—" he looked at his watch again, "—a few hours."

"You forced me to spill everything downstairs!" exclaimed Hermione. Ron did not know how someone could whisper so loud.

"I know," said Ron, surprising even himself. "I'm sorry about that."

Hermione stared at him. Ron's eyes had become adjusted to the dark by now and he could see that she looked a bit relieved. He picked up the blankets and motioned for her to get under them. Smiling, Hermione tied her hair back and crawled into his bed, lying with her back against his chest. Ron wrapped his arms around her and began to whisper in her ear.

"When you get back to your house with your mum and dad, do you think I could meet you there?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to miss me?" he asked her.

"Yes."

Ron smiled as he ran his hand down her shoulder and arm. He touched the front of her pajama shirt and let his hand rest on her stomach.

"Are you tired?" he whispered. Hermione shook her head against his neck. Ron, feeling not so tired himself, began to kiss her neck. He felt Hermione's body tighten and push back into his. He brought his hand back up to her arm and started stroking it again while kissing her neck harder. He decided to test his limits, which might or might not have been a smart thing to do, and moved his hand back to the base of her shirt. Hermione didn't protest but turned her head back to capture his lips in a kiss.

They were kissing feverishly now, Ron subconsciously moving the lower part of his body harder against her. He moved hand lower until he could feel the elastic fabric of her pajama bottoms. He ran his hand over her until he reached between her legs. He contemplated briefly whether it was wise to touch further, but seeing as Hermione was still snogging his brains out, he pressed his fingers against the fabric just outside of her.

Hermione froze from the touch and broke away from the kiss. She turned her head back around and grabbed his hand. Ron remained still, his hand over her, fearing for his life. It was when Hermione pressed his fingers harder against her that he relaxed and kissed her again. She had begun to breathe heavily as Ron sucked on her neck and kissed her shoulders.

Not knowing what he was doing, Ron slipped his hand under the thin fragment. Hermione leaned her head back against his chest as he moved his fingers until they were rubbing right over her opening. Nervous, Ron touched her for the first time. Hermione guided his hand once more so his fingers touched her where he guessed was the right spot.

"Ron," she sighed. Ron groaned in her neck as he continued to both kiss her and press himself against her. He moved his fingers over where she had indicated, eliciting a moan from Hermione. He used his other hand to touch the small of her back while continuing to kiss her neck.

Hermione turned her head around to face him again and kissed him back. His hand was moving faster and she was slightly rocking her hips against it.

"Oh, god," she moaned. Ron moved his fingers in a circle over her as he watched her draw deep breaths. "Oh, Ron!"

With his free hand, Ron clapped a hand over her mouth as she moaned. He closed his eyes, hoping that maybe she would touch him, as her breathing slowed and her body loosened. He pulled his hand from the inside of her pants and rested it on her hip. Hermione looked at him with wide, almost frightened eyes. Her cheeks became red as he smiled nervously at her and she scrambled out from under the covers.

She looked at him before turning around, panting from embarrassment.

"I've got to go," she whispered.

"Hermione, wait," said Ron. But Hermione was already tip-toeing out of his room and closing his door behind her.

**A/N: Okay, so I've been trying to update faster but I'm going back to school soon so I've been busy. Hope you like it and thanks for all of the reviews! I am debating on how long this story should be. I've got ideas swimming around in my head and I know what I want to do with the characters but I'm not sure how many chapters it should contain. Any ideas? **


	4. Chapter 4

Ron crept out of his room and down the stairs, careful to avoid the floorboards that he knew creaked. He arrived at Ginny's door and slowly turned the handle. He immediately stopped when he heard the loud snoring of someone on a higher landing cease. He waited until the snoring resumed before pushing the door open.

He saw Hermione sitting on her camper, knees drawn to her chest. In the small bed next to her lay a huddled mass under the blankets softly breathing. Hermione looked up and saw Ron standing in the doorway. He motioned for her to come over. She shook her head _no_ and covered her face in her hands.

"Seriously, Hermione?" whispered Ron. Hermione snapped her head back up and put a finger to her lips to shush him and nodded at Ginny. Ron rolled his eyes and walked through the doorway. Hermione got up from her camper and for several moments they stared at each other. Hermione's face was unreadable as Ron looked at her. Although the darkness of Ginny's room made it unnoticeable, Ron's ears grew red as he remembered the flushed look on Hermione's face. He could clearly picture how she looked when she was panting and moving under his fingers. He grinned as he remembered the sound of her moaning his name.

Hermione could tell by the look on his face what he was thinking and scowled.

"Oh, get over it," she hissed. Ron continued to grin at her and she frowned back.

"That was brilliant," he whispered.

"Embarrassing more like it," said Hermione quietly, crossing her arms.

"Not for me, it wasn't."

"Well you weren't the one who was—you know—" she started.

"Moaning?" suggested Ron.

"Yes, _that_," she snapped.

There was the sound of ruffled blankets and movement as Ginny turned in her bed. Both Ron and Hermione looked over and saw that she was still asleep.

They left the room and closed the door behind them before quietly making their way back up towards Ron's room. Ron was about to pull Hermione into a kiss before she rounded on him again.

"You just don't understand how embarrassing that was!"

"Who cares?" said Ron, throwing up his hands. "It's me! It's not like you were doing it in front of an audience. I've seen you as a cat, Hermione. I think that's as embarrassing as it's going to get."

Hermione glared at him. He had thought mentioning her second-year Polyjuice potion screw-up would lighten her up, but as he stared back at her angry face, he figured not.

"You just don't understand," she said again.

"Well," said Ron, moving closer to her. "I _can _understand if you want. I mean, if you want to help me out here I can probably get a good idea of what you're going through." Ron was testing his courage and her tolerance for inappropriate jokes. If he knew Hermione, she would get angry for suggesting such a thing and then laugh and forgive him. Truthfully, he was only half-joking. He knew that she wouldn't take him seriously but if she did he'd have half his clothes off before she could finish her sentence.

Even though they had already shared their fair share of snogging, Ron was still nervous. He tried to hide it by joking and hoped Hermione couldn't tell. He wasn't used to being so physical with her, or anyone for that matter. He had kissed Lavender, sure, but this was another story. Just months before they were only friends and year ago they weren't even talking to one another.

Hermione looked angrily at him. Then, she broke out in a smile and laughed to herself. Ron smiled, his predictions being correct, and held her hands in his.

"I guess it wasn't so bad," said Hermione lightly.

"Yeah," said Ron. He was barely paying attention anymore. He wanted so badly to kiss her again, to touch her.

"Do you want to talk?" asked Hermione hopefully. Ron looked down at her smiling face. She did love to talk. And boss him around. It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement of what they were going to do next.

"Sure," he lied. They moved back over to his bed and sat down to face each other.

"I'm sorry that I have to leave," said Hermione. She played with the loose threads on his blanket and looked at him sadly.

"Don't be sorry," said Ron. "You need to go. But you have to promise me that you'll be careful and that you'll write me." Hermione nodded. "And I get to come pick you up from your house," he added. Hermione reached over and hugged him tightly. Last year, Ron would have been caught off guard. He would have clumsily patted her on the back or expected her to turn and give Harry the same affection, but now he was used to it. He embraced her.

"Why couldn't you have kissed me last year?" he asked off-handedly. She pulled back.

"You were being a prat most of the time," she said. "Actually," she said, thinking again. "You're still kind of a prat."

"Oh am I?" he asked, acting as if he were insulted. "Who should I act like instead? Your boyfriend, McLaggen?"

"Be quiet," she said playfully. "It was you—," she said as she prodded his chest, "—who drove me to that."

"Yeah, I suppose," said Ron thoughtfully. "Still, that was harsh."

"And you kissing Lavender every second of every day wasn't?" she asked. Her tone was still playful but Ron knew that she was serious. "You knew I liked you."

"Well, maybe," he muttered. Hermione looked at him as if he had grown another head.

"What do you mean _maybe_?"

"I don't know Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air and getting off of the bed. "You seemed to just want, what d'you call it, 'really good Quidditch players.'"

"I only said that to make you mad, Ron," said Hermione in defense. "You know that. Besides, there was nothing serious with anybody."

"Not even with Krum?" Ron asked, sounding more hopeful than he liked.

"No, not even Krum," she said sternly. "I couldn't like him like that. Not with you around anyway. The whole Yule Ball date was just that." Ron walked back over to the bed and sat down. He was relieved for the most part.

"I'm really glad we're friends, Hermione," he said, sighing and looking at her earnestly. "I probably wouldn't have gotten through half my homework without you and well, you know, and I wouldn't have had anyone to fight with either."

"I'm sure you would have managed," she said. She pulled back the covers on his bed and got inside, bringing them up to her chest. She peered over the top as she spoke to him. "Are you coming in or what?"

Ron looked at her, astounded at her bluntness at first and then figuring that it was more like her to be bossy. He crawled over to join her after reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing the Deluminator. He clicked it, sucking what little light there was in the room, and buried himself under the blankets. His eyes crinkled as he grinned at her from beneath the warmth.

"Ron?" asked Hermione. Her voice was loud, emerging from the darkness in the room. Ron clicked the Deluminator again, restoring the faint light back into the area.

"Will you stop doing that?" Hermione hissed suddenly. "Keep the light in or out of that thing, it's going to drive me mad."

"You're already half way there," joked Ron. He fiddled with the Deluminator again, turning it over in his hands and contemplating whether to click it once more. "So," he said mock-seriously. "Is there a better chance that you'll snog me in the dark or when you can see me?" Hermione swatted him under the covers and snatched the Deluminator from his hands.

"I want to talk to you," she said seriously. Ron propped his head up onto his hand and stared at her. Her fingers closed in around the Deluminator as she looked at it.

"Are you going to miss me?"

"No," said Ron. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled at her before closing his eyes and taking the Deluminator back. He clicked it again as he felt Hermione's body relax into sleep next to him, the light disappearing from the room once more.


End file.
